Days of Future Past
by PreciousPandalily
Summary: All that's left in the apocalyptic world of metahumans and those without super-powers make one final push in this ongoing war for the survival of their species across two time periods in a battle that must change their past - to save their future. And one sole individual takes this opportunity to resurrect a past lover; Idea taken from the upcoming film, X-Men: Days of Future Past.
1. Alive

**GOTHAM CITY  
****MAY 8, 2024, 2103 EST**

* * *

"What's the last thing you remember?" His voice motions into the night across the room without an echo; the fog from his breath barely making an appearance much unlike himself.

There are too many answers to the simple question he asked her. If there's anything he wants to know on her memory, he was going to have to be more specific. In this case, with his random demand to meet up after sending a distress call, she's aware of what he wants her to say. His desire to know every memorial retention flowing in her mind from another who's life has been affected by what has happened in the past to this point on, but it isn't like he's not knowledgeable about anything in her time. He, along with her deceased father, formed some kind of companionship with each other during the good 'ol days when things were normal. Now that they're here, these two individuals knew this day would come sooner than later. So she stares at the man hiding in the darkness in the small spacious living room, no bigger than a child's bedroom without any windows. It's apparent the home has been poorly taken care with a thick funk in the air, no draft from an air vent, and low volumes of squeaks and scratches caught by their ears. The ceiling fan directly above her slowly spins in the clockwise motion, the light bulb barely providing any light above her with it's faintness, but it's the only source of buoyant in the room. The wooden chair she sits on is nearly to collapse if she weighed any heavier. Loose nails in the ground hardly keeps the wrecked building together, otherwise it'd flop to their demise. This place they called as their rally point has evidently been abandoned for who knows how long.

The look in her eyes are read like a novel. Each chapter with the themed description of fear, anger, disappointment, and an overwhelming sense of dolefulness. Everything deemed acrimonious as she stares into the iniquity straightaway ahead of her which the light does not shine upon. Her hands relax on her lap, hidden within the sleeves of the damp black hooded sweater she wears during the aphotic, snowy winter night outside. Her jeans, wet at the bottom with torn threads at the rim, barely keeping her olive toned skin warm underneath, her right leg relaxing over the other in a shown cognizance of calmness and tranquility; her boots canopied with a mixture of dirt and snow from the tip of the front to the back of the heel. Her body's mostly kept cordial with the help of a dark red beanie covering her ears and her traditional ponytail hair with a few loose locks slipping from the sides and curls in the front. She looks more full into her body, mature and poised as a grown woman, clear smooth skin with no wrinkles, slender and possessing the beauty she owed since we've known her from the start.

Though they're alone, this as much she knew, she'd swallow her spit every two seconds, constantly looking around the area without any movement of her muscles in expectation for what they feared may be their last day. When she was done, her attention would go directly back to the shadows. Her bottom lip frissons, but her voice remains strong as she spoke.

"Is that supposed to be an easy question to answer?" Artemis' eyes leisurely travel down to the wooden floor boards, some crack wood standing up from the carelessness of the property. "I remember the pathetic childhood I went through growing up as a kid. It was sad waking up every morning having to seek the very end. My mom ended up going to jail after a failed mission with with my dad when they did their dirty work together. She ended up getting injured and was crippled, serving six years of hard time. That's where being raised by my intolerable dad took place. The only credit I give him is being the one who introduced the bow and arrow to me when I was a little girl, but with the cost of living a normal childhood with my sister. I remember the long summer days and the cold, endless winter nights training and practicing my tail off so I'd better prepare myself for the worst conditions and learn to utilize my surroundings in any type of terrain to use it as my greatest advantage."

Her visual continues to lock to the floor, her body frozen as she enters the state of thought of her past in mind, replaying the memories in her head like a tape as she spoke. "I remember going training rigorously to the extremes and at the highest level. There was no such thing as being satisfactory, or having a decent performance, or good-almost great." She mildly shakes her head. "I was to be perfect in the vision of his eyes, and I was...eventually. He threw tests at me like my teachers did in high school. My skills were watched while he stood there and sometimes he'd even force me to go a few matches against my sister. Those were the worst days. When I did something wrong or didn't meet his expectations, I was talked down like a disobedient dog. If I was lucky to get away from all of that, physically going one on one against him." Her sight finally break loose from the floor boards, her immersion back to the darkness in front of her, expressionless. "I took it. If I was ever forced to kill someone, the outlook needed to be set in gear. The word 'hesitation' isn't in my vocabulary. I had to be tough as nails and when the time came, grind in the dirt. He taught me in the real world, it's kill or be killed. I never had to resort that low though."

A small mouse scatters across the room between the two, it's feet scrapping against the floor, gaining their attention as the critter disappears across the small room. She clears away the frog in the back of her throat before proceeding. "I've always managed to stand on top, whether I was with a team or on my own. But in reality I always knew I was the one at the bottom. I recall joining my first Team, making my first actual group of friends, and even finding love. Things were good until I got a little selfish and had to witness the sacrifice he made of his life to prevent our world from being destroyed after the alien invasion all those years back. But I don't need to tell you all about that. You were there."

The tips of her eyebrows sharpen downward, resembling anger to her listener. He knew exactly what she was talking about, but remains silent. Her tone is much darker than it was before, "It's one of those highlights I my life I haven't taken easily since. It's a personal thing, you know? It hasn't been easy to heal...to fix yourself from the torn pieces in the damaged scrapbook we mentally put together with memories he and I went through over the years we were together until his end." Her voice much weaker now as if her breath was taken away from her. "Eight years ago, moving on in my troubled little life, but never forgetting." She pauses and as quick as her voice diminished, her pitch grew stronger once again. "Never forgetting the day I turned my back on my Team during the emotional downfall in my life. Being wanted by the police, the Team, the Justice League...and always running and questioned by my mom about my recent actions and decisions; being on non-speaking terms with my sister after declaring her shame in me. My reputation died almost instantly before my eyes." Artemis chuckles under her breath. "Nobody understood what I went through as the years past, but then again I guess it's my fault for being the quiet girl in the corner until everything built up, then exploding like a nuclear warhead."

Artemis takes a second to pause and takes a moment to swallow after speaking so much, her bottom lip shaking again as she brushes a lock behind her right ear. "When you're alone for so long there's a point when you crave for the feeling of affection and being wanted. And as result I'll never forget the day I was blessed with the birth of my daughter, Isabelle Rose." She slightly grins to the cheek, creating the side arch as she reminisces one of the most precious moments in her life. "I remember squeezing her tiny little fingers after I first heard her innocent little cry, the doctors announcing she was a girl after I gave in to my last push." For the short time her grin lasted, it's erased from his sight. "Two years later I'm living as a single mother after her father was killed by what they call 'The Protectors of Our Modern Age'. So where does that put the rest of us? People that were once labeled as 'heroes' and 'villains' have been cast aside and pushed in grime. The rest of us, for whatever is left in this world, live as roaches. For the roaches like them, like me, like us...we've been on the run for years."

"When you say the protectors of the modern age, you mean the Monitors." The man finally clarifies.

"What else is defined as that? I remember the presentation of Metallic Industries. It was global, all over the news. How they introduced the Monitors as heroes of our Earth to guide us through peace and stability. They were designed and programmed to protect mankind from super-humans like ourselves and other advanced beings in the universe or others. We were slowly driven out into one equal group, disregarding if we were heroes or villains. There was no such thing as co-existing. We were assembled like stray dogs in poor man's village. We were useless and eventually hunted down and slaughtered without mercy or before we could even aware we were going to be attacked. We were left on the bloodied streets across the globe, waiting to be cleaned up and swept away by 'the normals'. It's kind of funny when you think about it, people that live normal life without any superpowers. Our only choice was to hide and watch that cocky, arrogant proprietor ultimately lose direction on what he was centering on and the prospect of the world we used to live in. Concealing the secret that he did in fact he hate us, never understanding and fearing what he didn't know. Taking in insults and chants about how we were sick and erasing the gifts we used for good or evil to make a better world where heroes or villains don't exist."

"He only started with a few his machines, then they made hundreds. And we watched them burn." He adds composedly.

"There was nothing else we could do. They're indestructible and because of that I watched people's lives taken away from them. A quick, simple death for the most part. There was no suffering or torture, but there was no mercy. It was almost pitiful because everyone thought they stood a chance against those technological beings. We dropped like mosquitos going for the light. Family, friends...even people without powers like myself assisting to stop the Monitors from..." She quotes with her fingers, "'Protecting the people to the greatest extent', they said. They were only doing their job. The creator claimed it was for the greater good, to save money on the damages we've caused to save the day that we did time and time again. Making neighborhoods a lot safer so the people can go to sleep knowing they were protected and didn't have to worry about a roof falling over their heads. We weren't needed anymore and the people...the people loved him and his creations."

Eyes skies up to the bulb as the light begins to flicker on and off for some time. "The idea of the Monitors was adorned so much, they confused us as the enemy. And I was there. I watched the missile leave depart from Phoenix and enter space, taking out the Watchtower and bringing it out of orbit before crashing in the Pacific. The first of many casualties I witnessed on television. Watching all three Flashes die in person at different time frames for the protection of themselves or others wasn't easy either. How even the most powerful of us all was easily taken down by a few blows. Sure, there were some normals that sided with us and wanted the Monitors gone and Metallic Industries taken down, but we were greatly outnumbered, scattered worldwide like rats, easily swiped and removed globally from what we once called our home. We were supposed to be the protectors. Now we've been forced to hide, to suffer, and fear for our lives while the normals continue to live theirs protected by these those inhumane devices."

"But you don't have any special abilities of your own. You were once a hero and a crook yourself, yet you still reside within the outskirts of the city with your daughter, but why?" The man pauses and waits for an answer, but Artemis stares at him with a deadpan look. He continues, "By definition, you're still a fighter yourself, but in reality you-."

"I couldn't be one anymore. It's what's best best for the protection of my daughter. It came down to if I were to stay alive and be here for my daughter instead of fighting with the resistance, I'd have to throw in the towel and live a normal life inside the compounds of this apocalyptic world, where freedom rings. But I guess that context isn't defined like how it used to be anymore. The world has turned their back on us, spat in our faces, completely ignoring the sacrifices we've made and the lives we've put on the line to save their own dozens of times."

"We don't exist to them anymore." He replies with a factual statement.

"That's an obvious quote. The ratio of them to us is absurd."

"So you understand now why I came to you."

Artemis can't help but snicker with her fist covering her mouth, a cheap fog escaping from her nostrils. "Adding me to your group isn't going to give us any type of advantage over them. My bow and arrows are useless against their armor. You've seen how they've taken out those with powers and how people like myself that only use their mind and body with a few of our tricks here and there. We were thrashed around like a toy doll. I should be one of the last people you came to."

"I'll let all that pass knowing it's mostly true, but if I told you there's a slim chance for everything to be fixed from the past to change the future that's in store for us, would you consider changing your answer?"

His words alert her, quickly catching her interest. If there really is a slim chance of hope to change everything to make this all go away, there shouldn't be a problem hearing him out. "What are you saying?"

"I've had a glimpse in the past. The life you're living in now, the war that will soon be finished, this shameful life your daughter has to grow up in the future...you'd be able to better yourself and change it all if you join me. I'm not going to lie and say my offer doesn't sound sketchy, but what else do you have to lose besides possibly leaving her in this world alone if you were to die alone next?"

Part of him is precise, but the other has her questioning why risking everything it there's a bigger possibility they'd fail. Would it be worth it? And then again everything falls down to what's most important to her in her life right now. "If anything were to change, my daughter-?"

He cuts her off before she can finish, easily knowing where she's getting to. "I can't guarantee what you have now will still be present if this mess gets fixed, but I can tell you that you'll be doing the right thing." He pauses after watching her roll her eyes at him. He couldn't blame her for not trusting him or quickly agreeing to join his side so nimbly. He's the most untrusted human being who as ever lived on the planet, yet he's still here somehow and wanting to make things right for once. It's too good to be true and she knows that, but something tells her he isn't kidding. The man reaches his palm out to her from the dark, his silver ring on his middle finger of his right hand with the capitol letter 'L' engraved in the center shining from the dimming light. "All I need is your acceptance. You're not alone in this world Artemis. You know this as do I."

There's a lot to consider, even from listening to man like him. She eases her back and leans forward to allow her elbows to rest on her lap, lifting her neck up a little more so she'd still make eye contact with this mysterious figure. Her smirk reappears in an odd manner. "Why would I trust you?"

Finally, in the duration of concealing with the darkness during the integral conversation, a bearded Lex Luthor steps into the light with a submissive grin on his face. "You wouldn't."

"I'm listening."

* * *

Review please? =)


	2. Contact

**Blüdhaven**  
**MAY 9, 2024, 0024 PMT**

* * *

The blistering weather pursues with its silent snowstorm throughout the abandoned southern division neighborhood of the once populated, Gotham City. Much like that of itself, now remains inhabitable of nothing but a wasteland filled with utter and complete destruction throughout the city. The grey storming cloudy skies harboring the atmosphere without view of the coast gives away nothing but dark days and even more pitch-black nights. Fog consumes the roads and empty neighborhoods. It wasn't long ago when the city was abandoned by it's citizens, now a soul hardly making a presence. But who can blame them? There isn't anything left that seems important to cover any ground. Neglected buildings and skyscrapers have been draped with plastic sheets like a nightgown. Vehicles have been discarded and forgotten by their owners only to be parked on the side of roads, some crashed in the middle of intense traffic with shattered glass, crushed hoods, and other damages from past battles. Streets lights haven't been in use for who knows how long, a power outage spread throughout the entire district. Local shops that were once popular now empty or trashed with the sales carelessly scattered on the dirt floors. Several windows have been bashed in with bigger objects from the raids as the city began to fall to it's doom. Pavements, sidewalks, and streets have cast-off long ago, now sewers filled so much that the waste found its way to the streets, but because of the chilling weather, freezing against the on solid ground until it'd melt. Vacated apartment homes in local neighborhoods never stood a chance during the war. Some structures fully crumbled to the ground with others barely standing on their own, leaning against those few still standing tall. Over again, windows smashed and broken into, setting in an arctic draft far and inside the homes with snow finding its way exclusively.

A black wired hook shoots across from a far distance, making contiguous contact with the emergency fire escape stairs to one of the apartment buildings several stories up. A dark figure swings from their grip on the grapple gun before slamming their chest first roughly against the loose stairway, losing their grip on the gun and hanging with both hands against the bars. It's a struggle for this individual, but they manage to lift themselves up and over and eventually acquiring themselves to safety. It's no use going for their device anymore, as it had fallen its way downward after they lost their grip. Moving onward, it's a simple task to opening an unlocked window, almost looking as if they were a criminal breaking into a home. They climb inside, grunting and quietly catching their breath in the process, then turning on a lamp in the corner nearby to provide low-density light..

A bearded Nightwing, removing his domino mask his eyes and carelessly drops it to the floor, stares at the untidy mess in his living room with his right arm wrapped around his left ribcage. Trash, old magazines, and fallen newspaper articles attached to his walls blankets the debilitated wooden floors as he slowly limps his way towards the small kitchen a few meters away. Snow slips off his shoulders as he uses his left hand to lean against the cornered counter, arching his back forward in a stretching motion and letting out a sigh of relief. He removes his hand from covering his ribcage, withdrawing his broken eskrima sticks from his holster and distilling those too on the ground, frightening a famished mouse close by. His glove covered with spots of blood is removed from his hand as he rummages his fingers through his shaggy and bushy black hair, then rubbing his forehead wearily afterward. With the injury to his ribcage and the rips and tears from his uniform, there's no doubt he had finished a losing fight with on the robots patrolling around Blüdhaven.

He takes a seat on his mangled brown leather sofa against the wall, resting his backside against whatever type of comfort is left in his lounge. His eyes blink and taking note of his lamp's light subduing as the wind outside picks up speed. Thoughts run in his mind of what he's to accomplish and questioning mentally if there's a point to keep fighting. Determination and his drive diminishes as each day passes and the time would come where he'd have to conclude is operation. His body can't take on the physical toll, nor can it mentally much longer.

He slowly rolls his head to face the damaged hinges of the front door leading entry to his room. He waits patiently, takes a deep breath, then speaks with his voice weak and rough. "I can see you from the cracks. You can come in."

The door opens, allowing the doorway to squeak as M'gann presses against it with her hand, announcing herself with Zatanna. Their presence doesn't do much change to Nightwing's mood while entering his living room, studying their surroundings and judging promptly with only their eyes. The two figured he'd hold himself better than this in his own city."

"So much for a simple knock on the door and being welcomed in, right?" M'gann says as a failed joke attempt and a fake smile adding along to that.

The two heroines, more mature and grown from their younger adulthood days, arrive in their civilian clothing; M'gann taking route of arriving in her change of skin tone to that of a Caucasian girl with her eyes, freckles, and hair unchanged. A purple winter coat surrounds her upper body with a level of a black long sleeve thermal underneath, black yoga pants, and chocolate-brown boots stopping midway at her calves. Zatanna dispersed of her original uniform with the League and appears attired in a grey toggled hooded coat with her hands in her pockets, blue jeans with small splotches of snow melting into the seams, and black winter boots also stopping midway to her calves. She remains of her curvacious frame and her hair wavier with strands hanging over her ears to frame her face.

The two take immediate notice of Nightwing's wound to his ribcage, Zatanna rushing to the kitchen and grabbing a spare towel and running the kitchen water.

"You're still fighting?" M'gann asks while slowly approaching him.

"You make it sound like I quit a long time ago." He replies with a quick shot.

She ignores the bitterness he formulated some time ago after repeatedly losing against the robots he perpetually matches against. She takes a seat to the right of where he sat on the sofa. "Can I see it?"

"It's nothing." His pride overshadows his lesion, doing more of an attempt to cover his injury with the entire integral of his arm.

Zatanna hurriedly rushes to his left side with a warm towel in her left hand, trying to get a good angle to place it adjacent to the swelling. "If it was nothing then there wouldn't be any blood." She removes his right arm, barely making any difficult of an attempt to do so as he gives in to her soft touch. Her eyes catch the view of three tears to his uniform reaching to his skin, red blood and swelling, causing his skin to the mixtures of purple and brown, in her sight. She ignores what would make most people sick to the stomach and advances on. "This might sting just a little..."

The expectation of him groaning in pain never occurs. He keeps a sure eye on her as she firms the cloth to him, almost doing his best on concealing his smile gracefully while she focuses on tending to him.

"Trying to take on the Monitors on your own isn't a good idea. You're going to get yourself killed one day." M'gann says as she watches.

He rolls his head back to M'gann after she spoke. "Someone has to keep fighting."

"We never gave up in the first place." She replies.

He mildly shrugs his shoulders without a response. Zatanna distances the cloth from his ribcage and crimps it so the bloodied region isn't showing anymore. She relocates upward to the left side of his face, observing the small beardless bumps on his skin from a poor job of shaving. A cut appears on the corner of his left eyebrow and as she once did with his ribcage, places the fabric on his small cut."

"You don't have to do this." He rolls his eyes up to, catching only her cheek and the fruity fragrance on her neck escaping from the zipper of the coat. "I can take care of myself."

He tries reaching for her hand to stop aiding him, but she nudges him away with her helping elbow. "Seriously Dick?" Her eyes glaring at him in disappointment that he continues to throw himself in great danger. "You're lucky you don't need stitches or anything else."

"Do you want me to rinse that off?" M'gann asks after watching the once white cloth turn pink after every appliance to his face and ribcage.

"Sure."

M'gann lifts herself from the couch. "And I'll find something in the back to apply to him. Like some healing cream or neosporin."

Nightwing scantily leans his head forward and follows M'gann's steps as she enters the back room. Zatanna ends this by gently pressing the palm of her hand against his forehead and forcibly pushing him back to rest. Without saying a word, she gently swans her fingers through his sticky, sweaty hair, picking out the dirt trapped in his scalp. He watches her with patience, sedately, relishing the visual modality and company of his former colleague.

He opens his mouth to speak, letting in a wisp of air and watching her bright cyan colored eyes fall to his. "Are you, um-." Her quick stare slightly intimidates him. He clears the back of his dry throat. "You upset with me?"

"I'm sure you know me well enough to know when I'm upset with you and when I'm not." Sounding as if he already knows.

"So...I take it that you are." He assumes, losing eye contact with her. "Join the club."

His careless attitude brings the acrimony in her eyes. "You have the rest of us worried about you Dick. Always wondering if you're alive or dead. You make no effort to reach out to us for help or-." Zatanna shakes her head, her mind filled with frustration and dismay. "You keep thinking you have to do this alone when you don't – you can't."

"The rest of you?" He questions her statement in disbelief. "What rest? They wiped all of us out years ago."

"Sorry to disappoint you and your false statement, but you're wrong. There's still a small team of us left. You'd be a part of it if you didn't bail on us those years ago."

"There's no point anymore." He says-softly, almost sounding hopeless. "They've pretty much already won. It's only a matter of time before we-." But he stops his sentence, watching her look into his eyes with a letdown, the ignominy and despair sounding from him while she takes heed, waiting and daring him to close in with a horrible conclusion. "Never mind."

"Stop being stubborn and just admit you need us more thank you know." She continues while swiping the melting snow off his lap. "We need you too." His blinks are soft while he looks into her eyes. She's aware of this, but acts oblivious and ignores eye contact when searching for other little nicks to help carry himself together. "I need you."

The last three words she delivered captures his full attention. Silence grows between the two, nothing but air and wind blowing from the outside distilling in the air. There's still something there, the two can feel it. It isn't the situation where it goes one way or the other, much to their satisfaction it's mutual despite everything they've been through these past eight years, whether they witnessed everything together or not.

Zatanna uses her fingers to curl back a few stands of her hair that found their way to the sides of her face while she continues to look at Nightwing. She watches a small bounteous smile form on his face. "I uh..."

"I didn't find anything back there.." M'gann interrupts the two's moment empty handed. "You don't even have a bed in your room. I mean, is this really what you've resorted to? How do you live?"

Nightwing adjusts himself from where he sits, leaning forward to relax his elbows on his lap with his face abutting the ground. "Look, thanks for coming by to visit and helping me get better. I appreciate it, I really do, but I know there's another reason why you're here besides checking up on me." M'gann and Zatanna exchange agreeing looks to one another, despite to his cognition, leads to more skeptical of their business. "What's going on?"

"The truth is, we've made contact with others like us." M'gann answers. "He calls himself 'one of the big dogs left in the game'."

"We don't have any more information about him except he claims to have a solution to prevent this war from ever starting in the first place." Zatanna adds.

"Wait a minute, he has a solution to prevent the war from starting in the first place?" He retorts. "What is this, some type of game?" Nightwing shoots forward from his seat, pacing to the middle of the living room facing the two in disgust. "We're still fighting this losing war. How can he possibly have a solution to changing everything from the start?"

M'gann, looking much confused as he is himself, remains nonchalant and sensible. "You know as much as we do. That's why we came here."

"What do I have to do with this? You were the ones contacted. Not me"

"Dick..." Zatanna begins, her voice soothing and solemn. "You were once our leader. Besides our own resistance, there's others like ourselves out there. This fight can only last much longer. But if we join together and give one more push, don't you think it'd be worth it?"

To be honest, deep down in his heart he knows it's worth a chance. He's personally aware he's running out of options and it wasn't much longer he'd survive another fight against the machines, let alone in his poor living conditions. And they know after first observing the lessening of the muscles in his body when first arriving to his home. His hand rubs the whiskers around the roughness of his mouth and chin, lowering his head to the ground in deep thought of his decision while the two heroines transact looks to each other once again in concern.

He sighs, "Let's say I do join you and we meet up with the resistance...what if it turns out being a trap? What if we have no other choice but to fight? You know what they did to Superman, the Green Lanterns, Kaldur..." He counts off each deceased member with his fingers. "...Beast Boy, Wondergirl..." He catches eyes with Zatanna, especially with his last count off. "Dr. Fate..." Thus, watching her right eye tear up without taking her sight off him. "What do expect us to do if that happens? If we fight back, we know what will happen in the end."

M'gann's tone is much darker than before. "And if we give up now their deaths with mean nothing. It's worth the risk that we're willing to take."

"And the others have agreed with the decision?" He asks.

Zatanna removes herself from his seat and stands aside M'gann as the two females prepare to depart his home. "We're doing this with or without you. We just thought it'd be right for you to know and to give you a chance to join us in our final stand. What else do we have to lose? Most of us lost almost everything."

"Our freedom is nonexistent. If there's a chance to restore all that, we're all in for this." The martian adds.

Losing his life in the near future has no meaning anymore. He had lost his family when he was nine, and removed himself from his family of the Team two years ago. There was nothing left for him to fight for, except for his freedom that's nearly belittled. Beside the fact that this meeting can possibly be a trap, it's the only shot he has left towards fixing everything this world has came to. It's time for his pride to be set aside.

"Wait..." He raises his hand and intermissions them from exiting the door. They turn around, M'gann endeavoring to hide her suspected grin.

"Can you at least give me five minutes to shave?"

* * *

Review please? =)


	3. Reunification

**ARKHAM CITY  
MAY 9, 2024, 0212 PMT**

* * *

The steady storm across the desolate city continues, emanating a flurry of snow from above piling on inches of snow across the city the grounds. This proves to make traveling on foot more laborious for M'gann, Zatanna, and Nightwing after they mutually agreed to avoid taking flight in the cloudy skies with her Bio-Ship to circumvent the chance on being besieged from any sentries close by. It has only been a couple of hours since they had persuaded their former leader to rejoin their team to coalesce with the rest of whatever is left of the resistance. The thick fog looming throughout the city in combination with the dense snow plunging in front of their faces creates slight hitches for a clear visual of what's coming ahead of them, but after continuously shuffling their feet tirelessly through the deep snowfall they finally make way to a much older two story monumental building standing alone, almost similar to an old library, separated from other structures in the capacity of the area. Like the rest of the buildings around town, this is another short of lights to declare any signs of company and seemingly left behind to rot. Nightwing removes the black cloth warming the bottom half of his face after clearly recognizing this building in front of them. With M'gann and Zatanna proceeding along the several set of snow-filled steps leading to the rugged entrance, his feet stick like glue to the chapped pavement.

"Hold on a second." His voice enervates as he spoke, reaching his hand out towards the two and watching the heroines stop and turn in inquiry. "Is this the Team's headquarters? Here, in Arkham City of all places?"

"Is there a problem?" M'gann asks curiously. "We've been here for months. It's not like there's anyone who knows or is watching us nearby. As far as we're concerned it's completely safe for the moment."

"But do you realize what building this is?" He continues spilling away with questions he thought they'd understand; fog escaping underneath his nostrils. "Where we're at? The history behind this place?"

"No…?" She replies unknowingly.

"It's an empty abandoned building that has been ignored for the past eight years, maybe longer before that. We picked this place as a hideout 'cause it's less likely to be investigated unlike the rest of Gotham and Metropolis." Zatanna answers sharply as she reaches the top of the first set of the fractured steps. "I think questioning us about where we're at is the last thing we need to worry about. In the near future when and if all of this is finished, then we'll take the time to talk about it."

Her rapid dark response stuns M'gann and she takes a hasty glimpse to Nightwing in the duration of him squinting his eyes beneath his domino mask, following the steps of the magician during her continuation to the next set of steps. The complete ignorance and shift of the conversation that quickly expired causes more frustration to him with the lack of their awareness of their location. It's a tough decision to keep his mouth shut, but he eventually drops the matter. M'gann doesn't fully comprehend and shrugs her shoulders, moving along from behind with Nightwing chillingly catching up to her side.

"_Honestly, I didn't even know."_ She goes on with her telepathic link only connecting with him, peeking from the corners of her eyes while speaking in a calming pitch. _"What's so special about this place that had you talking to us like we were invading someone's property?"_

Nightwing looks back to her without an answer. With their lack of knowledge, he doesn't expect anyone else to know what this dwelling means to him, specifically because he spent most of his childhood years as the Cape Crusaders sidekick. He knows Arkham City better than anyone else besides his former mentor, every street, every corner, and almost every villain that had been detained in the notorious prison. The assumption of their decision when picking this site as their HQ in the past without scrutiny of its history cultivates.

"_Nothing."_ He responds.

M'gann disagrees otherwise, but drops the subject. They follow Zatanna to the nearly broken door, stepping inside the gloomy building with an immediate turn to their left. She draws a small flashlight from her back pocket to provide an essence of buoyant in the iniquity. Their footpaths sound superficially with their steps gently splashing into small puddles of melting snow before them. It isn't casual to ignore and pace aside the stoned ground covered with trash and mildew trapped in the corners of each wall. The scrabbling resonance of mice and other rodents hiding within holes and man-made outlets in the hollow dark graffiti walls reaches their eardrums. They do their best to not inhale much of the thick foul aroma silently flowing in the hall, equivalent to a deathly scene of bodies set in their final resting place. But something was wrong to Nightwing's eye. What had once continued on to be another hallway comes to an end as the complete structure of the wall to their left side is now in complete ruins. Rubble and debris lies next to them as they lastly make their own entryway to the empty recessed courthouse. He's suddenly two steps ahead of them when making his approach inside, spotting three individuals standing with their backs facing them within the gust until his steps are made clear.

Oliver Queen is the first to turn after sensing someone making their presence inside dressed in a brown leather coat buttoned to the top, dark blue fitted denims, and black casual shoes; his hair nicely slicked and continues to press on with his goatee. Strangely enough, he approaches Nightwing with a tenuous grin, his hands in his pockets as if this were a casual meet up. "It's good to finally have you back." His greeting is decent, his tone profound. Oliver sends his hand out for a handshake and after a few seconds of muteness from Nightwing's end surprise of his survival for the past eight years, he accepts firmly.

"Good to be back." His voice raspy.

"It took us a while to finally get a location on you." Oliver places his hand on Nightwing's left shoulder, taking immediate notice to the lack of muscle that was once there. "We didn't think you'd be hiding out in the slums."

"I see you're still cracking jokes these days."

"When faces are down like they have been recently, somebody has to." He replies insolently.

Jamie Reyes, now supporting a stubble goatee and looking more mature adult wise for his age, welcomes his former leader with a convenient smile. Unlike Oliver, he, Karen Beecher, and Virgil Hawkins dawn a complete leather black costume, striding from their necks, down to their sleeves, gloves, and completely covering their legs. For Karen, the only modification is the backside of her uniform containing opened spaces for her wings to surface when needed with her goggles set on her forehead, much like Virgil himself. He stares at each one of them blatantly when realizing how each of heir uniform matches to a certain extent.

"What's with all the black?" The first question slipping from his mouth. "Why happened to your regular uniforms?" He asks.

"Physically it provides stealth and secrecy. And like how we've been forced upon ourselves, black creates a barrier between itself and outside world, similar to the situation we're facing today. The color of black usually defines the means of the end, but can be an end to a new beginning." Oliver answers.

"_**Egnahc sehtolc otni mrofinu" **_

Nightwing turns his head subsequently listening to Zatanna perform one of her spells, purely inspecting her civilian clothes convert into a black leather uniform to match everyone else. His attention is back to Oliver, scanning him from head to toe. "Then why aren't you dressed up?"

"I remain here with Oracle in case anything happens."

Another one of his questions answered and he proceeds with overlooking the entire perimeter of the courthouse, but doesn't spot anything functional to guide and aid their missions, if there were any at all. "No computers, no com links? How do you function? How do you guys stay organized?"

"We rely on M'gann's telepathic link like as did in the good days." Jaime answers. "But as you can see hermano, we're a small team now. There's no worry about being spread too thin. We're all that's left of the Team and the League combined. There isn't any use for computers in our headquarters anymore and our Zeta-Tubes have been shut down for some time, so we travel on foot or flight."

"And this is your headquarters?"

"This is all we left now." A familiar womanly voice retorts from behind the small crowd. As she finds her way through, Barbara Gordon, now confined to a wheel chair, makes her presence known to her long lost colleague and friend. As the rest of the team wears their almost identical black attires, she exhibits her personal black leather jacket with a white top underneath, dark blue jeans, and black flats. Using her hands against the trundles on her chair, she wheels herself towards Nightwing, greeting him with a smirk as she pushes away one of her rolls of her curled hair from the side of her face behind her ear. Something new to him is the addition of her professed glasses she now wears. Nonetheless his body steams inside, emotions running through his veins, he holds himself impassive, but she reads his mind like a book and easily perceives his feelings of sympathy for her nonfunctional usage of her legs, the responsibility of this falling on from the Clown Prince of Crime some years ago. "Deal with it."

He clears the back of his throat, ignoring eye contact when she gets closer. "And, uh...what do you do?"

"I study the armor of what makes the sentries invulnerable to even our biggest guns." She answers self-confidently.

"And since you ditched us, she's also is responsible for our missions if we do decided to split into small two-man teams." Zatanna replies, her arms now crossed over her chest.

The negative attention slowly rising personally from Zatanna forces M'gann to step in-between the large gap between the two Gotham citizens, turning the attention on her. "Okay, we have almost everyone here."

"We're still missing Conner and Red Arrow." Virgil states.

"He already had this briefing and he passing it on to Red when he gets him to join us."

Nightwing turns to Oliver. "So I wasn't the only one."

"We feared you and Red Arrow were dead, but after we found sightings of you throughout Gotham and Washington, we set out a manhunt for you two."

"What about Red Robin? Is he going to show up?" Jamie also asks.

"He never responded to our calls." Oliver solvents without discontent. "It looks like he'll be missing out on all the fun."

"Then we should get started." M'gann visages every person in the huddle, strongly admiring all that's left of the resistance. "Everyone that's here is aware of Green Arrow and I intercepting a distress signal by an unknown person or persons last night. We haven't been given any other information about them except they claim to have a solution to preventing this war from ever starting in the first place. During the incitation, we were given coordinates to meet them later in the morning and, thanks to the help of Oracle, we were able to decipher the code and figured our detestation point is at Gotham City Memorial. Now we know you're probably thinking after everything that has happened to us in the past eight years, it's impossible to reverse all the damage that's been caused by Metallic Industries, but then again, there is life on other planets, there are different dimensions, and immortality is a reality. These are all things that were doubted to be possible in the past, but it has happened. If what they claim is actually true, then why not try aiding them to fix this from ever occurring."

Jamie interrupts M'gann with her speech, but with earnest. "I'm in for saving the world one last time. All of us have given our lives for this Team, but what if this is a trap? Can't we find a way to have them tell us who they are so we know we're not stepping into the enemy's hands?"

"What's crucial about this is they have a plan and we don't. In fact, we really haven't had a plan to begin with. We keep fighting and fighting, but for how much longer? How much time do we have left before we're gone too? We're not blind to know that we don't have many bodies left. This war has put us to the point of desperation and we would only be foolish not to accept their request. If it turns out to be a trick, then-..." She pauses, observing the disconcerting faces on everyone as she makes clear of the one outcome that can possibly take place to their demise.

"Then we'll fight." Another doughty voice calls from the background. The Team turns to the sight of Conner while he walks towards the huddle several meters away with Red Arrow trailing him from behind in his original uniform. He goes along sounding optimistic, "And we'll keep fighting until the last of us standing falls. It's not like they can't take anything else away from us."

"…Everything except your freedom. We're still strays looking for one more opportunity to turn this thing around. Oliver steps into the center of the circle once Red Arrow and Conner joins the group. "When we do this, we need to keep in mind about everything we've lost in this war." He looks to his former protégé. "Whether they were our children…" His eyes travel to those of Karen's. "Our spouses…" And goes forth to M'gann. "Brothers and sisters, mothers and fathers. But when we go out there and do what we need to do, think of them and let the anger and sorrow flow to help power you through what we need to accomplish, whether this is a trap or not. Now does anyone have a time-hack?"

Virgil takes a quick glance at his watch, "It's almost two twenty."

"Then we leave here in fifteen. Oracle and I will be with you guys during the confrontation and we'll take the Bio-Ship instead of walking on foot. Hopefully we won't run into any sentries nearby. You're dismissed."

Zatanna, M'gann, Oracle, and Karen walk collectively to the northern end of the courthouse, leaving the six males stay put at the center of the room. Red Arrow specifically advances toward Nightwing with his causal deadpan look over his face. Interesting enough his muscular build, hairstyle, and everything else about him remains the same. He folds his arms to overlap his chest, watching the stillness in his old friends body.

He sarcastically chuckles. "I see they talked you into joining them too."

Nightwing sniffs as the fog eases its way out of his mouth. "It's not like I have anything better to do."

He takes a moment to ponder at lack of muscles Nightwing possess in his body, realizing he had lost a lot of weight in the duration he cut all connections with the Team and Justice League up to this point. "I also see you haven't been keeping up with yourself." Nightwing squint his eyes while staring off at the rotting floor boards. "You're at an all time low."

"I don't need your judgment."

"I'm not giving it to you." He retorts bitterly. "Maybe you forgot I was there too for the second time when my daughter was killed and my wife left me. So believe me when I say I'm not going to waste my judgment on you."

"It's not just you bro. We've all lost something or someone we cared about." Virgil adds. "I haven't seen my family since I left them in the good region of Dakota City."

"My best friend was also taken by the sentries and I haven't spoken to my family since the separation between meta-humans and normal humans." Jamie states.

Conner is the last of the group to speak, but it wasn't like they were naturally taking turns talking about who've the lost that was important to them. But even he didn't realize how long he was staring at the back of M'gann until the silence was perceptible, then turning to his short attention back to the Team. "I, uh..." He struggles to begin sharing. "You should have seen Green Arrow when he lost Canary. He was devastated. I-I can't imagine what it's like to lose someone you care most about."

* * *

"Does the adjustment to your uniform suit you better?" Oracle asks while watching Karen place her goggles over her eyes. "I was able to get passed Atom's safety locks so you can change into multiple sizes instead of one. Not to mention your wings are now useful even when you're at your normal size."

"Yea." Karen answers plainly, emotionless. She sedately drifts off on the Eastern region of the courthouse without another word to any of her teammates, as they watch dolefully.

Nobody else knows how badly Karen hurts inside as much as Oracle and she shakes her head mildly due to affinity. "She used to be so involved and active; one of the most dedicated and team players on the Team and now-"

"We know. It's like that for almost everyone here." M'gann takes a deep breath, rubbing the center of her forehead with her index finger and thumb.

Zatanna gracefully places her hand on M'gann's right shoulder to provide some sense of comfort. "It's good to know you've kept your composure, even when you lost your uncle. Which is why we elected you as leader of the Team once Nightwing disbanded us."

"It's obvious your grudge against him hasn't gone away, and neither has your attitude." Oracle says agitatedly.

Zatanna snaps with noesis. "Excuse me if I sound rude, but when was the last time I asked for your opinion?"

"Enough." M'gann intervenes with annoyance from their ongoing feud. "We here to work together, not to fight one another."

"Is everything alright?" Conner asks, approaching the females and taking notice of Karen's separation from the women.

"We're fine." M'gann expresses a small fib, curling a few loose locks behind her ear. She notices his lock on Karen as she silently stares outside the glass window of the courthouse, her arms holding on the opposite. He attempts to walk toward her for consolation, but M'gann softly grasps onto his right arm to prevent him from doing so. "She needs to be alone."

He nods with agreement, losing partial of his focus to M'gann and staring into her amber colored eyes. "Mal shouldn't had gone the way he did."

"None of them should have." She courses her vision away from the cloned Kryptonian, before making eye contact with him once more in flimsy shyness. "Even Wally."

The space between the two shrinks as their chests are close to making contact. There's no question they have stuck together throughout this endless war, constantly watching each others back so neither one of them would have to suffer alone without the other, but continuously watching as other members of their Team sacrifice their lives for the sake of their survival. Time is running out and the time of their extinction is forthcoming. The idea of setting their feelings aside for the Team demonstrates to be more challenging as each day passes, but distractions aren't needed. Thus the silence of their love for one another continues on for now.

"Look..." Conner begins, scratching the back of his head, watching as a bit of excitement appears on her face. "I, uh-"

"Alright everyone." Oliver Queen calls the Team out loud enough to hear without having to exceed the tone of his voice, unknowingly interrupting Conner from what he was to say. Everyone drops what they're doing and their mini conversations to pay attention to the most experienced member of their resistance. He waits as they gather into one last group circle to hear him out, eying each individual until he reaches the last clockwise. "I've seen the faces of fear and pain...suffering and despair. Everything that you've endured these past eight years that has amounted you to this day. I know some may be thinking this night could be your last, or maybe assuming next week will, or next month, but I assure you, if we watch each others backs and stay focused, nothing will stop us and we will continue on with our survival. This night won't be our last, not for a long shot, but we need to stay on our toes. We have to pay attention, cause if we make one minor slip up, then we'll all fail and all of this will be short of nothing."

M'gann, the closest of the group standing aside Oliver stares at the remains of the Team with her hands against her hips in confidence. "We're ready."


	4. The Meeting

**GOTHAM CITY**

**MAY 9, 2024, 04:32 EST**

* * *

An immense field decorated with graves, tombs, and funeral urns in the burial grounds. Not a single soul patrolling the dejected field. The city-wide storm had finally spaced and silenced after its violent disorder across the city, with dark grey storm clouds rushing south like flocks of doves. A few snowflakes meet the ground every once in a while, but it wouldn't be for a few hours until the next storm would succeed. Most of the grass-less grounds are empty with no sentries around, not the slightest sound heard nor the heartbeat of a living individual nearby. It's as though the cemetery has been the only untouched place throughout the war, but left without care and attention. Weeds and scrunches of dead grass flicker within the cinch from the wind. Bushes lay way uncut and untidily left to die with several pedals of dead flowers scattering across the muddy overland.

Lex Luthor steps in the mud with his black mucky covered dress shoes, leaving behind solid footprints with ungraded soil following him with every movement from his legs. It doesn't take long to find several unknown individuals following him from behind hiding within the dusk, the silhouettes shown only making it difficult to point out who travels with him. They surpass graves coming from all directions around them, following a sturdy, rocky route towards a more specific commemoration background. His head rises slimly enough to view the aspect of a much larger grave consecrated to the Man of Steel, a ten foot cracked on different points of the silver statue memorialized to the Kryptonian as he had passed years ago. He slips his hands into his black coat pocket, sternly looking at the pose they structured Superman from the marble.

"Last time I checked, we weren't coming here to grieve." Vandal Savage reminds Luthor after watching him stare at the stone for an extended amount of time.

But Luthor ignores him, keeping his backside facing Savage. Every day the idea of accepting the help from the Justice League years ago to help prevent this current world from taking place crosses his mind. The predicament he's in now wouldn't be known to date. He would've never lost his fortune, his wealth, and his infamous repute. But it was his selfishness and greed that split him apart from everyone else, eliciting the day of reckoning for the people he once allied with and feared himself.

Deathstroke, armed and primed for a potential engagement situation, reaches Luthor from his rear side without his mask concealing his identity. "Four thirty came and went. Either they're late or they aren't coming." He waits for Lex's response, but he remains quiet within the primeval morning. The mercenary whips his pistol from his holster and drops the magazine from the well, flicking out another round as each minute passes their deadline. As of now he's at his third, then turning away and pacing by another acquainted female illustration behind them. "I don't know how much long he'll keep the silent treatment on us, but the longer he waits is the more impatient I'll get."

"Give it a rest." Artemis responds austerely. She uses her fingers to curl the loose locks fanning in her face behind her left ear while her hood covers the rest of her head. "It's only been a couple of minutes."

"You say that now." He presses on. "Haven't you realized he hasn't told any of us his plan to fix this mess? I'm starting to think this is waste of time."

Artemis ignores Deathstroke's complaints and makes forth to Lex as the rest did, standing next to the bearded man while staring at Superman's statue excessively. She has to break his silence to build on what's next in case their invitees are a no-show. "You haven't said a word Lex, not since you brought us all together and came here." She starts, waiting for his reply, but receives nothing but his lasting exhalation.

"They will come." He mumbles, sounding much more lackadaisical than usual.

She expects more from the man who did all he could in his power to reach out for those assisting him, but is to no avail. Artemis crosses her chilling arms over her blanketed chest, observing the heavy fog in front of them grow and quilting the area in its path.

"Where's your daughter?" He asks sedately, to which Artemis doesn't counter. "I didn't expect you to bring her, but I personally wonder on her location. Is she with the normals?"

She's startled, struggling to put words in a bunch. Why it matters to him, she doesn't know and doesn't feel the need to ask. Maybe the reasoning to pass on the short amount of time they have here. "Her grandmother's watching her."

A pair of footsteps shuffling through the dirt some-odd meters away acquires their attention, including that of Deathstroke and Vandal Savage. The two join Luthor and Artemis as they watch the outline of one lone figure traveling promptly in their direction.

A small grin ponders on Savage's face. "I think our company has arrived."

"Could be..." The mercenary screens his mask over his face, immediately afterward removing his pistol from his holster and racking a round in the chamber, then taking a step in front of the other three and aiming his weapon at the unknown individual. "...or unwanted company."

Artemis squints her eyes to get a better visual, ultimately determining the figure is that of man instead of anything else. "It's not a Monitor." She warns Deathstroke, but he keeps his arm in a steady position.

After pressing through the fog for an unknown amount of time, Conner finally displays himself to the four resistors, coming to somewhat of a surprise off Artemis' appearance with the three. They were the last people anyone would expect Artemis to team up with since her departure.

"My, my...if it isn't the Boy of Steel." Savage remarks grimly.

This doesn't bother Conner to the slightest and he waits for a few seconds, generally and leery smiling to Luthor when mentally counting the four standing in a group, then looking to the cloudy atmosphere. "I found them."

From the middle of nowhere, the Bio-Ship from above rids its disguise from the grey skies and slowly lands on several distances away to the left side of the fence line. Behind Conner arrives Blue Beetle, Bumblebee, and Static slowly riding on top of his piece of molar that has unfolded to a disc for him to fly on. Joining Luthor to his right from behind some nearby bushes is Green Arrow, Red Arrow, and Oracle with the two archers aiming sets of arrows at the four currently known oppositions. Deathstroke's head rapidly turns when listening to more footsteps behind them, shown to be Nightwing and Zatanna stepping through the evening fall as they had completely formed a full three-sixty cordon around them, neither one of the heroes pleased with their debuts.

"I must say, I didn't expect you to be alive." Conner walks closer towards Luthor. "You were the last person we thought to have sent out that signal."

"Even the smallest things will surprise you nowadays, my boy."

Green Arrow steps in as the individual with the most experience. "Do you really expect us to believe you're the one who's responsible for that signal?"

"I take it that you believe it was us since you showed up. And I should add on that you knew we were here before you presented yourselves, otherwise if I ever need anyone to make a perfect circle to trap a group of people in less than thirty seconds, then call me."

Red Arrow stares at Vandal Savage aggrievedly. "This is more than likely a trap. There's no way I'm going to be involved with Vandal Savage again."

"You're telling me." Static clinches a fist, intentionally discharging a few electric sparks from his left hand.

"Settle down there Electro-Boy. A fight isn't anything I have planned on schedule. It's quite the opposite in fact."

"_The Lex Luthor is telling the truth. They have a plan."_ Jaime's scarab states.

"You've got to be kidding me." Jamie replies, and much to his disbelief he takes the noesis from his scarab and catches up with Green Arrow. "As much as I hate to admit it, he's telling the truth. There's something they're not telling us."

Luthor smiles in response to Blue Beetle's statement. "Thank you Blue Beetle. I'm glad at least someone has their feet on the ground."

"Enough with the chit-chat." Nightwing ardently barks at the group, tightening the grip of his eskrima sticks. "This is getting us nowhere and wasting our time. What is it you have to tell us?"

Luthor raises his hand to signal Deathstroke to lower his weapon and in return he does so as expressed. The one time entrepreneur places his hands behind his back, wary of the tempest clouds passing by. "This war, this meaningless battle has ruined our lives for the most part, destroying everything we owned, taking away the people we loved, the freedom we once had. And everyone standing here in this circle and out has been given the opportunity to witness everything up to this point. Have you considered the reasons why?"

"Why we've managed to survive?" Conner rephrases as a question.

"Myself, Zatanna, Nightwing, Red Arrow, Ms. Gordon, Bumblebee, Green Arrow, Deathstroke, and aside from Vandal Savages immortality, the half of us here are human. Now we have ourselves a Martian and half Kryptonian, but then that only leaves two meta-humans, which leads to you, son." Luthor points to Static, "And Blue Beetle, besides the fact your scarab is from the Reach. This war has affected all of us because we were fellows with those who had superhuman abilities with power. We worked side by side and have the same goals. We-..."

"You never worked side by side with us." Oracle rudely interrupts Luthor's speech. "You all were associated with the Light."

"Hey, not all of us worked with them. Don't forget my contribution to the Team." Artemis scowls.

"Until you quit and decided to go rouge." Zatanna adds. "As far as we know it, your contribution was worthless."

"You're calling my efforts to the Team worthless? So you're telling me you would've been able to take out the Light without me going in undercover and help infiltrate them?" Artemis chuckles from amusement after Zatanna's remark. "That's a pretty bold statement."

M'gann mildly shakes her head. "I'm sure we could have found someone else to use as a replacement if you rejected the opportunity. Maybe if you put more thought into it without excluding Wally from you-"

"Really, M'gann? Seriously?" Artemis heatedly cuts her off, wailing her arms in the air with the crackling in her voice plainly heard in her sentence. She glares at her former friend, disbelieving how far she actually went to reminding Artemis of Wally's death. It's not like the experience hasn't haunted her these past years.

"That...everything- that's all hindsight now."Nightwing rubs his fingers on the middle of his forehead from annoyance of the switching of the topic. "It doesn't matter. We're getting off the subject again."

"Actually, my boy, we're getting closer to the subject." Luthor watches as the group's attention silences and ponders on him. "Hindsight: would've, could have, should have...all of which refers to the past, am I correct?"

"Where are you going with this?" Green Arrow questions.

"The key word is the **past**. Winding back to the days where all of this had started."

"The war started six years ago, when the Monitors were introduced... You're saying traveling six years back into the past?" He asks.

"My friend, if you have done your research, this war started long before that. 2018 was the year when they went public. This situation brews all the way into the late seventies."

Deathstroke, alleged about where Luthor's approach with this conversation, turns his body diagonally to face him. "We go into the past in and then what, kill the source? If that's the case, send me alone. I'll put a bullet through that knucklehead's skull before he gets the chance to repeat history again."

"Thank you for the offer, but getting rid of the source will only re-write history from then on entirely. We'll have to go with a much similar, but different approach. Green Arrow, you're correct, traveling six years into the past would account if we were to prevent the man who's responsible for publicly announcing his inventions of the Monitors, but we'll have to go back a little further than that."

"But why?" Why not stop him in 2018 before he presents the Monitors publicly?" M'gann asks.

"Because everything kicked off after the assassination of college graduate rival and metahuman supporter, Senator Lucas Golub." Luthor responds.

Bumblebee removes her goggles from covering her face to free the fog that clouds her vision. "I remember reading about him and how they never figured out who the assassins were. He was a good man, a great supporter. We were so busy working on the invasion that we didn't keep our heads in the news."

"Everyone's missing the big picture of this ordeal." Oracle wheels herself to the center of the gathering to collect everyone's attention. She points to Lex hastily, "Has anyone even wondered why and how Luthor is educated on all of this?"

Luthor maintains his composure and well spoken voice. "When you spend your time in a wasteland with nothing but your mind, body, and wits, you start to think on the past and what went wrong...what could have been done. Listen, I know you're all not fond of me. We have our differences and antithetical viewpoints, but we have to move on from the past and look towards running ourselves to a better future. We have to work together. All these years fighting against each other when part of me realizes, to an extent, we should have been partners...brothers in arms."

Red Arrow smacks his lips in the process of rolling his head. "Please. Spare us the crap Luthor."

Deathstroke impatiently rubs his foot in the dirt, then taking a step forward after wiping the mud off the back of his boot. "Sorry to interrupt your constant dubiety, but we don't have to partner up. This is our only offering. We aren't forcing you to do anything."

Green Arrow places his hands on hips, sighing to express his hypothetical possibility on joining Luthor. "You mentioned time travel. What about it?"

"I've was given the opportunity to speak to a man whom would call a God. He has the ability to travel through time. He goes by the name of Metron."

The team's focus turn to Nightwing, being the detective he is, but he too is puzzled by whom Luthor has mentioned. "Never heard of him."

"That's because he keeps himself away from humanity, seeking for universal knowledge for his own personal reasons." Luthor continues. "It's what drives him. Some may call it keeping him sane. His key is the Mobius chair. Think of it as a flying throne, except that it grants him abilities to travel through time, space, and other dimensions."

"Everything you're say will be impossible." Oracle mentions with the attention shifting to her. "We can't go into the past because we already exist now and then. The whole time stream will mess everything up."

Luthor warily simpers. "And that's why I came up with using the Martian on our part."

"What?" M'gann asks after being pointed out.

"Think about it. Using your telepathy to transfer the minds of our present day selves to our bodies in the past with the aid of Metron using his time traveling source."

M'gann is shaken by Luthor's possible theory, personally doubting she's able to perform such a difficult task. "I...I don't know."

Conner places his left hand on her right shoulder, giving her a sense of comfort and consolation on his part. "You're saying she'd have to mentally link everyone together, take us into the past, and revert to a point in time to prevent the death of the Senator from happening?"

"Sounds easier said than done, I'll give you that Luthor." Green Arrow adds.

"By any chance, what year would we be entering?" Nightwing asks.

"September 7, 2015." Luthor answers sharply. "Three days before his private announcement of his creations to a business group."

A puff of fog spurts from Artemis nostrils, quickly looking a Luthor after mentioning ten years to their current date. "2015…that's a year before the ending of the invasion. A year before..." She ironically meets eye contact with Nightwing while he folds his arms over his chest in recognition of where she was going with this. "Nothing."

"The man we'll be looking for in attempt talking him out of introducing his machines is Thomas Cain. And I know exactly where to get a hold of him."

"Thomas Cain, the CEO of Metallic Industries." Oracle simplifies.

"That's correct. And everything will work if we do this together for this one time. Now before I ask for your support, I must advise you that if this works and we're able to change history and prevent this from happening, everything you own, possess, or exists for the past 10 years from now may not be the same. This is a superficial mission, very touchy."

"Yet who are we to say we're to change the time stream?" Red Arrow asks. "Maybe this is meant to be. What if this is our destiny, regardless we're to change what happened in the past."

"Like my sister running out on you? Do you really want to continue going through what you're suffering right now? Wouldn't you want to change the opportunity to prevent my niece's death?"

"How about you stop being selfish Artemis." Reed Arrow snaps at her. "Do you really want to give up your current living child? For what other reason would you want to go to the past to change history?"

Nightwing walks in-between to two archers barking at each other, settling down the high tension. "We're not here to fight. We're here to make a decision and we need to make one quick."

"Time is in essence. And we're running out of options. Let me remind you by record we're everything that's left of heroes and villains, superpowers and non-superpowers. As far as I know it, we're doing this for all of us fallen and us that are still standing."

Each member in this meeting exchanges looks towards one another, waiting for the first person to step up and accept Luthor's invitation. After going back and forth in his mind, Green Arrow raises his hand first, seemingly looking as if he were to regret his decision later. This is followed by Blue Beetle, Static, and Bumblebee. Zatanna is hesitant, worriedly looking to Nightwing and the two exchange stares as if they were speaking to each other using M'gann's telepathic link, and she too raises her hand, along with M'gann and Conner succeeding after her.

"Fine." Red Arrow looks to the dirt ground in disappointment.

Luthor directly averts to Nightwing when waiting on his choice. "I'm sure Batman would be proud if you were to accept."

Oracle inches herself closer to Nightwing's side, placing her hand on the side of his left arm. "You'll be okay. I'll personally be watching over your bodies if you do this. But do me a favor and prevent this from happening to me." She makes it obvious on pointing out the paralysis in her legs. In return, she's given a nod in agreement. She gives Nightwing a sincere grin. "Thank you."

"I must caution you not to say or do anything too rash that will twist everything in the past. Stick with the plan and everything will turn out okay. When we're sent back into the past, we'll meet up at the Solomon Wayne courthouse in Arkham City for a debrief. " Luthor says.

Nightwing chuckles to himself. "Ironically that's where we already have our hideout set up."

"Perfect. That means we already have a place set. Now do we have any useful information on the Monitors? Any weaknesses or known tactics?"

"We have nothing besides knowing their metallic armor is nearly indestructible, they stand up to be at least ten to fifteen feet tall, fairly skinny in stature, but swift and mobile. They technically function as human robots. Their computer generated brain allows them to detect the meta-gene in humans and they'll attack when taken on, whether they're heroes or villains.' Oracle explains from her knowledge.

"They also have tactical thought." Deathstroke delivers some intake on what he has experienced in the past dealing with the robots. "They're able to learn from their involvements with us and counter act. They're intelligent and can withstand anything we give them. You saw how they took out Superman."

"The robots are able to shoot energy blasts from different parts of their bodies, more notably their chest and cranium region." Blue Beetle continues with them.

"Are there any weak points, any soft parts to their physiques?" Luthor rephrases.

"If you want to know, here's your chance." Deathstroke unexpectedly announces.

Everyone's attention is caught by a lustrous light shining above them like a helicopter were searching for a wanted citizen. It soon comes clear when the light dims is a large being slowly approaching them from forward. The whisk of the wind begins to take speed, though the fog continues to hover around the large object, concealing it from the naked eye. A few rounds pop off from Deathstroke's retention of his two firearms, not vacillating to make the first move in their escape. His rounds are useless, ricocheting to other routes off the unknown giant.

"Green Arrow, get Oracle out of here! We'll handle this!" Nightwing demands, whipping out his eskrima sticks. "Everyone else, let's hold him back!"

"You think you can try regulate their weak points underneath its armor?" Blue Beetle asks his scarab when changing his right arm into a plasma cannon.

"_I've told you before Jamie R-…." _

"I know, but just try again!" He demands.

A thick, dauntless fiery energy beam shoots from within the fog, whisking away the dusk and nearly striking Artemis as she stands nervelessly when everybody else dodges out of the way. She watches as carmine colored glowing eyes is more apparent as the Monitor moves closer, it's sight instantly set on Conner to its right. Without holding back, he takes a monstrous leap in the air, breaking through the murkiness and landing a thunderous blow to the robot's countenance without being seen by his teammates, but in return is grab by the wrist with it's hand and is flung in an unknown direction. They only catch the sound of his excruciation whaling in the darkness. Arrows, both colors of green and red, are launched from the two archers while backing up Luthor, Vandal Savage, Oracle, and Green Arrow as they make their escape from the cemetery..

"Do we even know what we're shooting at or if we're hitting it?" Red Arrow asks her.

"If you're asking me to go over there and check, that's not going to happen." Artemis replies when releasing three more trick arrows from her bow.

The Monitor's presentation is cut short, moving swiftly through the fog and presenting itself fully to the resistance. Everyone pauses as they witness it taking a human-like breath before them, with air ceasing from its backside during it's site on the crew. Just as Oracle explained; a fifteen foot heightened robot with a silver exoskeleton replicated of a normal human body coated with black tungsten metal, surpassing all, but the face, elbows, forearms, calves, and shins of the design. The right arm of the Monitor molds into cannon itself, blasting another heavy fiery vigor eruption at the center of the gathering. The team disperses in the nick of time in all directions, the first being Nightwing to approach the robot and filled with ire to be released. The robot easily wipes Nightwing clean off the ground with it's annealed arm and he stumbles his way further into the memorial field with filth following him. Artemis continues shooting her arrows alongside Red Arrow while Bumblebee shoots decent sized blast from the palms of her hands. The Monitor attempts to swing at her with it's cannon, but she luckily dodges each attack with a last second change in motion. In the process, Blue Beetle fires his plasma cannon during the midst of Bumblebee's attack, avoiding to hit her with caution and striking the Monitor in the center field of it's chest.

"_Your tactics wont prove successful much longer."_ His scarab mentions during the blast. _"__Your plasma cannon isn't doing much harm to the armor of the machine."_

Ignoring Bumblebee and the arrows it's shot upon with, the Monitor moves forward shoots a couple more rays of energy beams at Artemis and Red Arrow, causing more dirt and dust to flow in their surroundings. She manages to knock Red further back before getting hit herself and dirt piles on top of them from within the surface. Static attempts to discharge a large amount of electricity at the Monitor from his hands, slowing the automaton down and ostensibly draining it's power.

"I'll assume you can't function without power."

The Monitor slowly lowers to one knee and Conner leaps back into the scene with a powerful clout to the back of the cranium. M'gann soars in the skies with four branch-less trees floating behind her, using her telekinesis to guide and crash them into the Monitor. The onslaught proves futile, with the machine grabbing Statics electricity as if it were a wire and swinging him off his disc into the sky and crashing him into M'gann. The two tumble into the background as the Monitor rises and grabs the Kryptonian from the back of it's head, roughly swinging him to the ground in front of it's foot and ferociously stomping on him as if he were a bug.

Artemis, now hiding behind shaggy bush for concealment and recognizing Red Arrow's lightheadedness from the earlier blast, sneaks one of his arrows from his quiver and aims for the Monitors eyes as it approaches to slow down Blue Beetle. She watches as it reaches for Blue's leg as he fails to fly away, swinging him intensely to the solid ground and raising him in the air, grabbing his arms with it's free hand and dropping him down to it's knees, corking his back and creating a crack within his armor. As a result, Jaime screams in pain, then is thrown highly in the air.

"Are you going to shoot, or keep watching?" Nightwing asks when recovering from his earlier beat down.

The Monitor gains it's composure and watches Nightwing running for it, rapidly tossing several gas pellets on the ground for cover and concealment. From the right side of the Monitor, Nightwing finds his way to the top and is able to grab on a crucial piece of the armor on the neck portion, using his taser to deliver an electrical volt blast into the uncovered portion of the machine. This is ineffective however, as it responds by grabbing Nightwing with it's opposite arm and transforming a spear with it's other. Nightwing battles to release himself from the robot's grip, but watches as the machine's blood-red eyes focus on his endeavoring efforts.

"_**Esaeler Gniwthgin morf s'ti pirg!" **_Zatanna shouts one of her spells, causing the Monitor to unwillingly release Nightwing several feet to the ground until he lands on his back and she hears a thud. "Nightwing!" She calls out in a worry.

Artemis witnesses the Monitor's solitary attention on Zatanna as her single focus is on Nightwing's well being, unaware of the spear transforming back into a cannon and swiftly aiming for her body.

"Zatanna!" Artemis shrieks for the brunette and leaps over the bush from which she hid for the past couple minutes, releasing her arrow as it slips to the ground.

But she's too late. As she trials for her dear life to save her friend, screaming her name at the top of her lungs in desperate attempt for the magician to hear her, the energy blast exits the cannon, hitting straight forward in Zatanna's standing point, surrounding a cloud of dust and dirt above ground. The extreme force wildly knocks her back, aflare as if she were a doll carelessly tossed around and Artemis watches as she skies over her, Zatanna's shadow from above covering her body, and landing several feel away with the mud trailing her. The archer wipes her eyes from the dirt, then looking upwards as the same cannon that had taken out her friend aims for her. She coolly drops her bow to the dirt, frowning in choler and clutching a fist, but with one more shot to knock the Monitor to it's feet, Conner arrives with another nudge with his shoulder and using the muscles with his upper back, pushing the machine down to lay on it's side. He forces pressure on the Monitor's neck as it seeks getting itself back to it's feet, screaming at his teammates to hurry and fall back.

"Somebody grab Zatanna and get out of here!"

Static retrieves his disc and carefully approaches his fallen teammate. He pauses for the moment, shaken by the scenery and coldness in her body. She lays silent, her figure quite motionless, face is expressionless, her limbs looking almost nonfunctional and lifeless. The dirt and mud covering her uniform with bloody cuts on her face and hands doesn't make the scene any prettier for him either, watching the bruise form on her left temple. His hands tremble when trying to force himself to pick her up, but can't find himself to do it. He looks behind him as Conner expresses his struggle vividly through his voice, then is touched by Artemis by his shoulder.

"Wake up Static! We have to get out of here!" She dictates.

Conner watches as they are followed along with Blue Beetle grabbing hold Red Arrow as they disappear into the darkness ahead of them. "Nightwing, create a distraction so we can ditch this guy!"

In response, Nightwing tosses several of his flash grenades in Conner's direction and he simultaneously pulls away to allow the Monitor to tardily gain it's ground, but is disrupted by the blast of the flashes and waits until it's computer programming imaging is lucid. It retrieves only blurs and fuzzes of two figures, but they vanish when they have the chance. Many seconds surpass until it's able to have a clear visual, but with M'gann's Bio-Ship gone and so as everyone else it fought against, the lonesome weapon turns away to begin its search for the resistance as programmed.


End file.
